Hands Open
by BunnyKat
Summary: An account of the second time Felicity and Moira have a toe to toe talk. Post 2x13.


Title: Hands Open

Author: Bunny

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Yeah, no, not mine.

Summary: An account of the second time Felicity and Moira have a toe to toe talk. Post 2x13.

That cat/mouse scene between Felicity and Moira was just brilliant. And you just know it's not over. I'm actually writing a different Arrow piece that's a little longer; but work pissed me off. The dialogue came to me on the car ride home. So this is where my negative energy went. No beta. Literally posted once completed. Feel free to complain about the mistakes! Enjoy!

* * *

_It's hard to argue when you won't stop making sense_  
_But my tongue still misbehaves and it keeps digging my own grave_  
_With my Hands Open, and my eyes open_  
_I just keep hoping, that your heart opens_  
_~ Snow Patrol_

Intently focused on her computer screen, Felicity wasn't aware of the menace before her until the approaching high heels feel silent. Quickly glancing up through her lenses she saw the Queen matriarch standing expectantly just inside the door frame, sending her blood pressure spiking.

"Mrs. Queen?" exclaimed the blonde, hopping up from her desk. She clicked a key to hide the current screen before shuffling to the individual before her. "No offense, but Oliver made it pretty clear to me, that he made it pretty clear to you, that you two wouldn't be speaking anymore. Plus, he's not up here anyway."

Moira came in closer as if she still owned the space. "Oh, I know, dear. I was hoping to speak to you."

"To me?"

The spike of anxiousness coursed through her, hoping her palms wouldn't start to sweat. The elder woman's voice sounded welcoming, but she could hear the icy layer poking through the surface. "Don't play coy. You played your hand early and I will no longer doubt your intellect."

"You doubted my intelligence?"

"No, not at all. I just considered you insignificant. An aspect I will no longer under estimate." Felicity flinched as she frowned at the back handed compliment, feeling the anxiety begin to transform into indignation. "That being said, you know what I want to speak about."

Felicity stood tall, some idle part of her mind praying the encounter didn't end with a metaphorical or literal knife in the back. "I had to tell Oliver about his sister. I'm not apologizing for that."

"It wasn't your secret to tell," Moira reasoned angrily.

"After everything from last year, do you honestly think keeping more secrets is the way to go?" she reasoned right back, refusing to back down to this woman.

Moira emitted a hollow laugh, crossing the distance of the office to the far window to peer out it. "The loyalty you exhibit towards my son is amusing. You think so highly of him."

"He's earned it. Oliver's a good man," stated Felicity ardently, turning her back to the door. Hearing the scoff from the other form in the room, she counted backwards from 3, 2, 1 in her head. Not to cease babbling, but to stop the imminent blow up from occurring. "He may be your son, but you don't know him at all. I've seen sides of him that I think would really surprise you."

"No, you see what you want to see with him. Stars in the eyes as it were." Moira turned, speaking as though she were offering golden advice. As far as she was concerned, the golden advice could just get shoved right back down her throat. "I've seen this time and time again, the young idealist who thinks she can sway the heart of a man. The secretary who tries to make a move on her richer, more experienced boss."

"Executive Assistant," she clarified endlessly irked. "And that's not why I'm here –"

"I asked around, hearing about your unexpected promotion from eighteen floors down. Typically when such a move occurs with a young woman like yourself, it's for some romantic dalliance." The challenge in the older woman's form was undeniable, and perhaps a little bit frightening. However her emotional fuse shortened to where Felicity did not notice the attempts to be bullied. She worked to control her breathing as her gut churned at the implication, refusing to break eye contact. "But it's been months since this promotion has been taken. And I can tell the two of you have not slept together."

To her chagrin, she couldn't help the flush that lit up her face. "I don't see how this relates to what I know about Thea…"

"Besides, I know that you have not been his bed companion these past few nights."

Time stopped for a split second then the world felt off kilter. A pit settled in her throat that added to the weight in the chest. Deliberately licking her lips, Felicity answered thickly, "Sara."

"Interesting; you seem to know the who, but not the what," Moira taunted with a not so subtle smirk. As she moved in closer Felicity's tempered flared. "You had hoped by telling him the truth that, he would what? Let you in? Run to you for comfort? I tried to warn you. I warned you that you would be shut out and Oliver would never look at you the same way."

"Stop it," she demanded, temper bubbling dangerously.

"How did that sting of rejection feel? Blaming you for the shift in his world? In his faith?"

"Stop talking!" snapped Felicity suddenly in her loud voice, hands splayed out in a 'stop' motion. The other woman snapped her mouth shut in evident surprise, a sense of satisfaction struck her at the result. The reprieve only lasted a moment as Moira attempted to speak once more, but Felicity beat her to it. "I said, stop! Talking! You. Are. Crazy. Has anybody bothered telling you lately? You know I don't trust you. So I don't know what your goal is here, but it's not going to work. You have nothing to hold over me, not really. So what are you going to do? Threaten me some more? Because I'm not afraid of you."

Bitter amusement flittered over Moira's features. "Because you think Oliver will protect you?"

"Because I think I can protect me just fine," Felicity stated firmly, resolve strong in her voice. This was evidently not the answer Moira expected as her head tilted and eyebrows rose. "But to answer the question, yes. He would."

"You care about him."

"Of course I care about him, he's my friend! Do you understand the meaning of the word?" she questioned softly. She felt the slightest bit of pity for the other woman as she seemed to flinch. The verbal dam opened and Felicity suddenly found herself unable to control the deep seated sentiment she typically held close to the chest. "Friend's care about unknown aspects of each other's lives, share random parts of their day, and are just honestly there for one another. I would do anything for him; I trust in him, I believe in him. More than you could possibly fathom. Without a doubt, I'm positive that street runs both ways. And for now, that is more than enough for me."

"And when it's not?" she goaded, trying to bait her into something.

The younger blonde flailed her arms in frustration, giving an irritated cry for emphasis. "Have you not been listening? This is clearly your pathetic attempt to upset me; to trick me to go away. To leave his back unwatched. Well let me clue you in. It's never going to happen."

A gruff throat cleared behind her. Spinning so sharply her pony tail hit her face, she gasped at the sight of Oliver, having no idea when he came in. He stood ramrod straight, jaw clenched tightly, fists balled up, hard eyes focused on his mother. His presence thickened the air, tension so palpable it could almost be cut. A trickle of worry ran down Felicity's spine as he didn't move for several beats. Finally he took purposeful steps forward, her eyes trailing each stride.

At first she thought he wasn't going to acknowledge her presence, but when they stood shoulder to shoulder he stopped. Her front faced the door, his faced the opposite direction. His head turned towards her at last, his hand grasping onto her elbow. The touch made her heart flutter and the look on his face made her chest glow. Once his eyes met hers the anger and betrayal faded away replaced with warmth, saved for her. She could see the open Oliver she spoke so freely with Moira about, her confidant.

"Would you mind giving my mother and me a moment alone?" asked Oliver, so much emotional weight in the sentence she could feel it mount inside her.

"Sure," she nodded, lips slightly pursed. Felicity raised her own hand to touch his arm, to assure him she was alright with the request. Peering ahead she walked to the door, the unnerving clacking of her heels echoed impressively in the silence.

Pausing at the door she glanced back noting both people looked at her. Moira's eyes shifted between her son and her, obviously trying to calculate something to use in her advantage. In turn Oliver's own eyes couldn't leave her; glistening with appreciation, despair, need, and a sympathy she could never quite put her finger on.

Her breath hitched as she nodded, letting him know she'd be there for him whenever this finished. Knowing she always would be.

~x~x~x~

"How much of that did you hear?"

Oliver's feet were not quiet on the stairs in order to announce his presence in the lair. "I stepped off the elevator when you started yelling for her to stop." Amusement twinged in his voice. "I never realized how well your loud voice carries."

Sitting in her work chair, Felicity held her face in her hand as she felt him approach behind her. "You think other people heard, too?" Last thing she needed at this time was to add fuel to the office rumors.

"No one else was on the floor. I'm pretty sure my mother somehow arranged that so the two of you could speak without witnesses."

"Good," she heaved a sigh of relief before grinning. "I know she's your mom and all, but it was really fun snapping at her."

He barked out a rare laugh from just beside her. "I'm glad you found a way to enjoy yourself."

"So," she began hesitantly, turning to look at him full on. "How did the talk part two with your mom go?" All traces of joy melted from his features and she stood up suddenly retracting her statement, "It's okay, you don't have to tell me anything."

Oliver grasped her forearm, looking her dead in the eye, the serious way that made her stomach flip flop. "If she approaches you again, for any reason, I need to know."

She smiled wistfully, clasping her hand over his. "You don't have to look out for me like that."

"Of course I do," he insisted in a hushed tone, graciousness in every word. "And thank you. I know there are people in my corner, but sometimes it's nice to be reminded why."

"Any time." Hope and familiarity flowed through her at his praise. She allowed herself to revel in it for a moment, before returning the bombshell Moira had dropped on her. Quirking her lips she asked, "So… You and Sara, huh?"

Closing his eyes, he stopped touching her as he sighed heavily. "Felicity…"

"It makes sense," she interrupted him. Oliver lifted an incredulous eye brow encouraging her to elaborate. Swallowing the lump in her throat as she continued, half convincing herself she was alright, "I mean, the two of you obviously have this undeniable bond, spent years working to survive, experienced things that no human being ever should. And now that you're both back, trying to deal with the modern day to day; who better to understand what you're going through than each other."

For the first time in a long while Oliver looked at her with an expression she couldn't even begin to decipher. Just when she was about to add to her statement, he dipped in quickly, pressing a lingering kiss on her cheek. "You're too good to me," he murmured solemnly.

Leaning into the feel of his lips against her skin, her eyes fluttered closed, mind preserving the memory. Felicity summoned a nonchalant cheerful spirit for her response from some unknown place within herself. "I know."


End file.
